Yesterday
by The Starkiller
Summary: "Yesterday, when all my troubles seemed so far away..." You already know her as the former girlfriend of George Harrison, Paul McCartney's best friend, John Lennon's lover, and one of the greatest muses of rock and roll, but did you know Holly McFarlane all those years ago when she was just 'that Teddy Girl?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_23 June, 1942. 12:00 AM_

The man protested, trying to get past the nurse who was blocking his way, with her arms spread to touch each side of the hallway.

"But my wife-" he said.

"Is in good hands," The blond nurse interrupted. "Now go sit down!" He rolled his eyes and mimicked her "Go sit down!" under his breath. Of course, he could have beat her down and demanded to see his wife (what else do they put him through all this military training for?!), but he figured Julie wouldn't appreciate him getting arrested. He sat down in one of the hard hospital chairs, nervously tapping his foot. He looked at the clock. The five minutes that had gone by had felt like hours. Then again, it always felt like that when you were waiting for something. Especially this something. He sighed and pulled the paperback book he kept in his coat pocket out, and went to the folded page, and started reading, But he found that he couldn't concentrate on science fiction right now. His foot tapped faster with each passing minute.

"Mr. McFarlane, you may see your wife now," the same nurse said with a smile, indicating that his wife was alive and well. He jumped up, and ran past her. He felt as if he was a child who had eaten a lot of candy at once(despite a mum's protest). He saw his wife holding a pink bundle. He looked at her. She radiated beauty, just like the day they had met 7 years ago.

"Don't look so dumbfounded. Come here and see your second daughter," she said. _How does she even have the energy for that sarcasm? _He scowled. He _did_ look dumb! He could feel it on his face. He walked over to his wife, and she pulled the blanket down a little, so he could get a glimpse of the newest McFarlane. He smiled ecstatically.

"Oh, Julie, look at her! She's beautiful!" he exclaimed. "Well, of course she is, she looks just like you," he corrected himself. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Jim! She has your nose," Julie reassured. "I can't wait for Britt to meet her little sister!" Britt was their bubbly, energetic five year old.

A doctor walked over to them. "What's her name?" he asked.

"Holly Nicole McFarlane," Julie answered. The doctors left them in peace.

"Holly, you are meant for great things, I know it," Jim said to his sleeping daughter while holding her little balled fist. "Great things."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_16 August, 1946_

A little girl played across the street with her older sister. They were jumping rope by tying it to a pole that held up a streetlight, one spinning it, and another jumping. A little boy her age watched her from his side of the street. He had been watching her for some time now, and thought she may be the most beautiful person he had ever saw, and he had thought his mother was the most beautiful person in the world. His legs carried him across the street, though he knew he would get in trouble for going across the street by himself. The older sister stopped turning the rope, and they walked over to him. They both had brown hair, although the older sister's hair was more blond. The younger sister had brown eyes, while the older sister had blue.

"My name is Paul," he introduced himself.

"Britt, pleased to meet you," The older girl said as she shook his hand.

"Holly," The younger one said as she shook his hand. She smiled a smile that little Paul swore could light up a thousand suns. It only added to her beauty.

"How old are you, Paul?" Britt asked him.

"4," he answered.

"Me too!" Holly exclaimed. Paul grinned at her.

"Wanna play with us?" Holly asked.

"Yeah." Britt went over to untie the rope.

Yes he did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_1 September, 1947_

"I don't want to go to school!" the little girl complained to her sister. "I want to stay at home with Mummy and be with Paulie!"

Her older sister smiled apologetically. "I know you do, kiddo, but you and Paul'll see each other at night, and here you'll meet more friends and learn how to read and write and the like! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

The young girl stared at the school through big brown eyes. "I suppose," she said. She turned to her sister. "Britty, will you come in with me?"

The older sister smiled. "Sure, kiddo. Let's go." The ten year old took her younger sister's small hand, her junior by five years. They reached the classroom, which was by far one if the largest rooms the small girl had ever seen in her life.

"Wow..." she breathed. Her sister grinned as two other small girls came over to them. One had curly brown hair, and was much taller than most of the other five year olds. The other had messy dark blond hair that had been pulled into a pony tail.

"Hello," the taller one said. "My name's Morgan." The other girl introduced herself as Lauren. "What's your name?"

"Holly," the small girl said shyly.

"Do you want to play with us?" Morgan asked. Holly nodded enthusiastically. She started to run off with the other children, but she turned back, and ran to her older sister. Her sister enveloped her in her arms.

"See you later, kiddo!" Britt told her.

"Bye, Britty!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

****_5 October, 1950_

__She pushed open the heavy steel gates like she had so many times before. The gardens called her in like a long lost friend. _Welcome back, Holly!_ A smile that could light up a thousand suns spread across her face. She ran. Soon, confusion hit her like a brick wall. There was a boy in the gardens. _Her _gardens. He looked back at her with eyes that held wisdom and pain far beyond his years.

"Hello," he said. "I'm John. What's your name?" He held out his hand for her to shake.

"Holly," she told him as she shook his outstretched hand. "I come here when I'm sad. Is that why you're here?" John seemed as if he was hesitating.

"Yes," he said finally. "Yes I do." Holly nodded.

"Why are you sad?" she asked him.

"My auntie is angry with me again," he revealed. "I was naughty at school." John looked at her. "Why are you sad?" Holly looked at her feet.

"Mummy and Daddy were yelling at each other again. I don't like it when they yell at each other," she told him. John nodded knowingly.

"I know," he told her. "D'you want to play with me?" She smile that beautiful smile again.

"Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five **

_29 June, 1957_

__They sat together in a tree, the only light being the stars and the occasional match that lit a fresh cigarette. The girl sighed as she felt the smoke burn in her throat. Her mother had almost said no to her being out that late, but once again, her father came to the rescue.

"D'you wanna just sit on the ground with the blanket?" she asked her friend. He nodded.

"Sure." He watched his friend jump from their branch with ease. He took the misshapen carton of cigarettes and shoved them in his jacket pocket.

"Come on, McCartney!" she shouted from the ground. "I don't have all bloody night, you know!" She pulled the leather jacket she was wearing tighter around her torso.

"You left me to deal with the blanket!" he defended himself. Even in the dark, he could see her rolling her eyes at his lame excuse.

"Toss the damn thing down 'ere, and then jump!" she instructed. He tossed the blanket down to her waiting arms, then jumped to join her beneath the canopy of leaves. They spread the blanket, and he emptied his pockets onto the blanket.

"Care to share?" his friend asked. He sighed and got two cigarettes instead of the one he was originally reaching for. She parted her lips for him to stuck the cigarette, and she lit for both of them.

"D'you hear Sarah got rid of it?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No, but I figured that shagger she's with would get impatient some time," he said.

"She made a point to broadcast it to the whole school. I'm pretty sure the teachers even know." She paused and then continued, "From what I hear, she's a screamer." They laughed together. The girl put her cigarette up to her blood red lips, which were still pulled in a smirk. "I think it's all bloody stupid."

"What is?" he questioned.

"How people make such a big deal out of their first time," she answered. "It's only one night!"

"I agree, I wish I could just get it over with and get on with my life." He could see her spinning a plan through those intelligent eyes. They were like a window to her innermost thoughts when facial expressions failed.

"Paul," she said slowly. "What if we _did_ get it over with?" His doe eyes widened as he comprehended what she was suggesting.

"You aren't suggesting that you and I have sex?" he asked in a shocked tone, though he knew he didn't need confirmation of his thoughts.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Just to get it over with." He held in his breath for a moment, then exhaled as he nodded.

"Alright," he whispered.

And he leaned in.

And their lips touched.

And he felt a electric shock course through his body.

She let him lay on top of her, but he stopped himself while he was still in possession of a sane mind. "Are you sure about this, Holl?" he whispered. She nodded.

"Sure as 'ell, McCartney," she whispered back. He laid a kiss on her jaw, and every clean thought ceased.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_30 January, 1957_

He came running across the street, clutching the record under his arm. Holly _has _to hear this. His knuckles rapped on the door, even though they had told him that he could come in anytime he wanted, and he was a part of their family.

"Come to shag my sister again?" Britt answered the door.

"Oh, how I look forward to your breaks," he replied. She let him in, and said to her sister that 'her secret lover was here for her'. Holly punched Britt, and turned to Paul.

"Hello," she said.

"Have a listen to this," he got straight to the point, holding up the record so she could see it.

"Who in the bloody hell has a name like Elvis?" she asked him, while her mother chided her about her language.

He rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter, Holl! Just put it on the bleeding record player!" She took it from him and went into the living room.

"Dad, brace yourself for whatever horror Paulie has brought into our home," she mock-warned her father. Without putting down his book, he replied "As long as I'm still alive when it's done, I honestly don't give a damn." Holly shrugged and dropped the needle on the record.

"_Well, since my baby left me, I found a new place to dwell!_" sang the record.

She and her father leaned forward, and said at the same time "Bloody hell."

It was as if the record was saying to them "_Welcome to rock and roll. We really are pleased to have you here with us. Please don't worry if you can't find the exit, there isn't one."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

****_20 February, 1958_

__"Let's go, Paul!" she urged. "It'll be dark in the theater, no one gives a fuck if you look pretty or not!"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Holl, Elvis will still be there for you to fantasize about, Love Me Tender isn't a one time thing, you know," he told her, but he came out for her anyways so they could leave. He wouldn't admit it, but he was as excited to see Love Me Tender as his friend was. Paul hoped it would be as good as it was supposed to be.

About four people away from the ticket booth, Paul realized that he was broke. Zip, zilch. He double checked his pockets again. "Ehm, Holl," he said slowly. "You wouldn't happen to have any money to pay for the tickets, would you?" Holly furrowed her eyebrows.

"No," she said. "You told me you were paying."

Paul nodded grimly. "That's what I thought as well." She kicked him.

"You git!" Holly exclaimed angrily. "Once again, I'll have to use my quick wits to get us out of this mess you've created." She thought for a moment while he rolled his eyes, and slowly, Paul could see a plan formulating in her mind. "I've got it!" Holly exclaimed. "Follow me." Paul took her hand and followed her around the back of the theater. He saw the red 'EXIT' sign, and quickly saw her plan. Holly opened the door and gestured for him not to 'make a bloody sound'. They walked quietly to the back row, sitting behind a couple.

"Good one," he whispered to her. She grinned that grin that kind of had an edge that let you know she was constantly mocking you. The movie screen flickered to life, and the movie began. At least twenty different girls in the theater screamed when Elvis made his first appearance.

"Cor, you'd think he's in the theater," Holly whispered as she stole some popcorn from the couple in front of them, who were currently snogging very passionately.

"Those two might just fuck in the theater," Paul whispered to her as he pointed them out to Holly. She snickered.

And, as soon as the movie began, it ended. Just like that.

They left through the same door they had illegally entered the theater through.

"Sir Paul," Holly said. "Document this day in history as the best day in my short, pathetic life."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_15 November, 1957_

_Finally. _The bell rang, and she was freed from her brick prison.

"Hey Holl, want to hang out after school?" Morgan asked her friend as she put her things in her bag.

"Why not?" Holly answered. "Lauren?"

"Let's." They left to go get their bicycles, but a familiar voice sounded.

"Going to go fuck McCartney again, McFarlane?" Holly had always hated that damn Sarah Miller. She drew in a breath.

"Yeah. I'll take the liberty of telling him about those sick fantasies you have about him during maths," Holly responded with a smirk, turning to face her challenger. Sarah's body stiffened, and Holly knew she had struck a nerve.

"I do not!" Holly's satisfaction with her work intensified. She was defensive now, especially since her boyfriend (who was dumber than a penguin) was with her, along with their disciples.

"Then what's with all of the '_Ohh_, Paul!'? You're so lucky we sit in the back of the classroom." Holly smiled a large smile. Sarah was tongue-tied, and she _always_ had something to say about _everything._

"Whore," she spat.

"Thanks for the compliment," Holly told her, and they (Holly, Morgan, and Lauren) got on their bicycles.

"You showed her," Morgan complimented Holly.

"Does she really have fantasies about Macca?" Lauren asked. Holly smirked as she buttoned the leather jacket that had become her trademark.

"She said 'to hell with the handbook', and literally wanks off during maths. I listen to it everyday," Holly confirmed. "Wanna come to my house? Mum's cooking again." The other two girls shared a look.

"Let's go!"


	9. Chapter 9

_29 November, 1957_

**Chapter Nine**

He tapped his foot nervously. The boys were standing on a hill with a huge tree on it, the hill they commoners knew was _their _hill, and not to go near it. He turned to his friend.

"What if she doesn't like me, Paul?" he asked Paul. Paul smiled at the younger boy confidently.

"She definitely will like you, George," Paul reassured George. George had heard about her before, mostly rumors depicting her as a bitch, and a whorey bitch at that. Paul's depiction of her was much different, and as far as Paul knew, she had only had sex once. But still, she made him nervous. Soon, though, George could see a girl in the distance.

She had confidence in her step and in the way she held her shoulders. She wore a leather jacket, and had the most unique shade of brown hair (not brunette, yet not quite blonde) that went a little past her shoulders. The guitar case she had in her right hand completed the 'teddy' look. She got more and more beautiful as she got closer to the boys, and George started noticing the details, like the big chocolate eyes, perfect lips, and the beauty mark on the left side of her face. George had a feeling that was urging him to run up to her and kiss those perfect lips, but he had no idea where that was coming from. George had never felt that about a girl before.

After what seemed like a millennium, she reached the boys under the tree, and grinned in a way that made you feel like she was secretly mocking you, yet it was beautiful at the same time. He had now idea how they could say all those things about her. She held out her hand for him to shake as she set down her guitar case.

"So you're Paul's new flame that he won't shut up about?" she asked with a grin. George took her hand and shook it.

"That would be me. I'm George Harrison," George replied. She grinned that grin again, and George couldn't believe how much he just wanted to kiss her on the spot.

"Holly McFarlane," she told him, and looked at Paul. "Where'd did you pick up this one, Paul?"

"On the bus. Actually, George lives fairly close to us," Paul answered. Holly raised an eyebrow.

"How come I've never heard of him, then?" Holly asked.

"He's one year younger than us," Paul replied. Holly nodded.

"Well?" she asked bluntly. "Is that bloody instrument for show, or can you do anything with it?" George got down on his knees to free his guitar from it's case. He stayed sitting on the ground to play "Raunchy". Holly looked what George _hoped _was impressed. Holly turned to Paul after the last note had been plucked.

"He's got my approval, Paulie," Holly said, and turned to George. "You're a damn good guitarist, mate. I'm not sure if I could play 'Raunchy' that well, and I've been playing for years."

George smiled widely. "Ta."

"Come on," Holly said. "Let's go to my house so mum can meet you. She won't let me out of the fucking house if she doesn't know you." They started off towards Holly's home, Holly about ten feet in front of the boys, leading the way.

"'Paulie'?" George asked Paul. "That's so queer." Paul elbowed him.

"Shaddup," he said. "Just keep walkin'."


	10. Chapter 10

_This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful George Harold Harrison (who has recently replaced John Lennon as my favorite Beatle), who died today eleven years ago_, _has not and never will be forgotten._

**Chapter Ten**

_5 July, 1958_

"I'm going on my run!" Jim McFarlane called from the bottom of the stairs to his wife and remaining underage daughter.

"Wait up, I'm coming with!" Holly yelled as she ran down the stairs, jumping the last three. She put on her trademark leather jacket. Julie made another annoying comment about how much she hated that jacket, and how whorish it was. Jim tried to ignore the comment, and the building urge to scream at his wife that she was a bloody idiot.

"Well, come 'ead, then!" he said to his daughter with a smile. Holly recognized now that everything was alright, and returned the smile. Jim would never get enough of that smile, it was brighter than a thousand suns, a smile that both of his daughters had inherited from their mother. They left the house, both secretly glad to be away from Julie. Jim had seen the side of his wife that had not been there before, but they never divorced for the sake of their young daughters. The resentment had resulted in many affairs from both parties.

"Let's just go around the block, Dad. We just ate, I don't want to spill," Holly reasoned.

"You're just too chicken to do physical exercise," Jim teased, but they did. They turned the corner, going the way you would go to get to that Harrison kid's house (Jim could never remember his name. His daughter usually referred to her friends by their last name instead of their first.)

"This is really nice," Holly commented, jogging to keep up with her father. "Just to be with you and only you."

"I thought your mum might bloody well drive us mad!" Jim said, half jokingly and half truthfully. Holly bent over and started weezing for comic effect. "Those cigarettes are weakening your lungs, love!" He had found out that his daughter smoked a while ago, and it didn't bother him. Besides, he knew that she was too bloody headstrong to stop if it did bother him. They must not have been paying attention, because he suddenly heard a voice. Not the voice of a friend, but the stranger.

"Stop, sir!" _Well, at least if he's going to threaten us he has enough brain cells to be polite, _Jim thought dryly. "Give me all of the money you have on you!"

"Mate, I'm broke, could you please step aside so we-" Jim started to say calmly, but the man (barely a kid, Jim noted) cut him off.

"Don't lie! Give me your money, or-or the girl dies!" Jim thought that this was this kid's first time breaking the law, because he was awful clumsy and afraid. Sure enough, though, the kid pulled out a revolver, and pointed it at his daughter. Fear flashed through Jim's blue eyes for a moment. Holly sent him a message through her expressive eyes. _I'm not afraid of this wanker, Dad_. That may be, but Jim had been in law enforcement long enough to know that clumsy or not, this unexperienced robber meant business.

Since Jim made no move for the wallet he did not possess, a shot exited the handgun. It seemed to move in slow motion, and without a moment's hesitation, Jim leaped in front of his daugter. He felt the bullet enter his torso, but made no noise. He was slightly aware of laying on the cold sidewalk, and being held by feminine yet strong arms.

"Don't blame yourself," Jim told her weakly, and faded into the dark void, unsure yer unafraid of whatever waited for him on the other side.

Holly let out a strangled sob as life faded from her father. "Help! Please! Anybody!" She screamed, and lifted her father's head to her own. Holly did something she hadn't done in years. She cried. "Anybody," she whispered.

Holly was only slightly aware that she was being pulled up off of the sidewalk.

"We called the police, they should be here soon," a familiar voice said reassuringly.

"George," Holly whispered.

"Come inside, mate, it's bloody cold. You're staying here tonight, we called your mum," George told her, putting an arm around his friend and leading her inside. His siblings and parents stared at them, not knowing how to handle the situation. Finally, his mother stepped forward and began to be a mother. She took Holly out of George's arms.

"Shh, love, it'll be alright, you're alright now," she soothed, talking to Holly as if she was six times younger, but it seemed to work. Holly's sobs were reduced to sniffles. "Come on, dear, we'll go find something of Louise's for you to wear for the night." The elder Louise led his friend away. George felt his father put a hand on his shoulder.

"Go get ready for bed." George followed his father's orders.

George walked into his room to see his female friend sitting numbly on his bed, a bundle of his sister's clothes next to her. She didn't even notice him walk in.

"Hi, love," he said.

"Hi," Holly said simply. Her voice sound dead, and the light reflected the tear tracks on her perfect face. George tentatively walked over to his dresser and changed into his nightclothes. Holly started to do the same, but she started to say the most Hollyesque thing in the world to clear the awkward air in the room: "Turn around, you bloody wanker. I may be emotionally compromised, but I'm not stripping for you." George laughed, and turned around. He watched Holly's fingers take off her bra in his mirror, exposing her tan back. George suddenly suddenly felt a deep wave of guilt (_George, you noble idiot_!, he told himself) and forced his eyes away from the mirror.

"Alright, it's G now," Holly said, and he turned around. Somehow, he liked the nightgown better when Holly wore it rather than Louise. It made her look incredibly feminine, a rare side of Holly. The nightgown unitentionally showed off Holly's amazing shape, and George was loving every minute of it.

"D'you want to talk?" George asked her, and the sadness returned to her face. Holly shook her head.

"No," she said. "I want you to hold me, and to not let me go." George didn't know where his confidence was coming from. One teenager arm pulled her to his side, and the other hand instintively caressed her arm. She gripped his torso tightly, snuggling her face into his white t-shirt. He could feel the tears they both had thought were dry start flowing again, he could feel them soak into his stomach. George wished desperately that he could do something to make her stop crying, but he knew there was nothing.

"I love you," George whispered, almost inaudible.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

****_15 July, 1958_

__Holly heard the door slam, and she cringed. _She _was home. Holly quickly took her cigarette and threw it out the window. Her mother waltzed drunkenly into the room, and suddenly the whole living room smelled of beer. Ever since her father had died, her mother went out drinking, and then would come home and yell at her daughter. Julie smiled.

"It smells like smoke! Has the little whore been smoking? Mummy doesn't like smoke," Julie said, sniffing the air like a dog. Holly move her gaze to her book again, and growled.

"You don't bloody even have the right to call yerself a mum," Holly muttered.

"Be a good little girl and go make Mummy a drink," her mother said. Holly stood up.

"No. I'm cutting you off here, I'm not even sure how you walked home without getting hit by a car," Holly said as she stood up.

"What did you say?" her mother asked, walking so close to her daughter that their noses were touching. Holly smelled the alcohol on her mother's breath, and coughed. It made her want to puke.

"I said no," Holly repeated, looking into her mum's eyes; her own eyes. Julie grabbed the collar of Holly's shirt clumsily.

"Mummy doesn't like when little girls don't obey," Julie whispered, and Holly closed her eyes. "And when girls don't obey, they are punished." Holly's mother started beating her, brutally landing blow after blow in the same place despite her intoxicated state. Holly diligently took each hit, biting down hard on her tongue, eventually feeling it break and spill blood into her mouth. Finally, Holly saw her opportunity, and took it. She got in a punch, and escaped up the stairs to her room. "Run away, then!" Julie screamed after her daughter. "Run away like the little fucking bitch you are!"

Holly took some clothes out of her dresser, and climbed out of her window into the tree. She climbed down the tree, and ran across the street. She picked up little pebbles and threw them at his window.

"Paulllie... Paulllie..." Holly whispered to him, willing him to come open the window. He did (finally).

"Wha'sthematter?" Paul asked groggily, and then took in his friend's appearance. "Fuckin' 'ell, yer hurt!" His face left the window, and Paul opened the front door to let Holly inside. She sat on the toilet while he cleaned the off the crimson blood, something he had gotten to be skilled at in the past week. He got her some ice for her eye. "D'you want to talk?" Paul asked. Holly shook her head.

"No, just sleep with someone who loves me," Holly said, and changed into the t-shirt and sweatpants Paul was loaning her. She laid down next to Paul in his bed, and he protectively put an arm around her body, daring anything to come and hurt her.

_Oh, if only you knew how much I love you, _Paul thought sadly, holding her tighter.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_28 August, 1958_

"I'm fucking done!" Holly screamed. "I'm leaving you and this damn place tonight!" She ran up the stairs she knew so well, and started to throw things into her army backpack. She rubbed the little patch that said "McFarlane" on it. "McFarlane", as in "James McFarlane", her father. Tears blurred her vision, God knows why.

Once packed with things she was sure she didn't need, she threw it over her shoulder and then picked up her acoustic guitar, the Martin she had learned to play on. Holly ran down the stairs and pushed past her mother, who was too stunned to do anything at all. Once free of the house, Holly looked across the street at the McCartney household. If nothing, she owed Paul a small explanation as to why she wouldn't be there at breakfast tomorrow morning. She pulled out her notebook, and began to write him a note to put on his door.

_Dear Paul,  
I don't know if this is the last time or not, so I'm going to assume that it is, since I'm not sure where I'll be tomorrow. I ran away. I'm done, gone, God knows where. Since I'm assuming this is the last time, I want to tell you I love you. Thank you for being my brother. I can't ever forget you, even if I tried._

_Love, Holly Nicole McFarlane_

Holly put the letter in its rightful spot, and looked up at the sky. The stars were disappearing and the sun was starting to rise. She began to walk. How long she had walked was beyond her. By the time Holly had reached Blackpool it was night-time again.

Holly decided to reward herself with a cigarette, but found out that all that was in her pocket was an empty carton with a used match and a cigarette stub in it. The stub was much too short to reuse, so she went buy some new ones. Holly was going to have cigarettes, by hook or by crook. The bell on the door announced her presence in the shop. By my estimates, funding would only pay for one pack, so rationing was in order.

"Hello, may I help you?" the older gentleman behind the counnter asked me. Holly explained to him what she wanted, and he then asked his price.

"What? Are you drunk? That's five over what I normally pay for the same fucking brand!" Holly exclaimed.

"Well, that's what you'll pay in my store," he told her matter-of-factly. "Pay for them or get out!"

"Listen here, I don't know who you think-" Holly started, but a man of about twenty approached the two and stopped the fued.

"Hey, it's alright," he told them. "She's with me." He paid the money for his and Holly's cigarettes, and we left together.

"Thanks, mate," she thanked him. "I'm Holly."

"I'm Jack. No problem, I just know that if I didn't have a smoke a day, I'd die," Jack introduced himself. She grinned.

"Yeah. Well, I'll see you 'round, won't I?" Holly asked him. For the first time today, she had met a guy who seemed halfway decent.

"Maybe you will, Teddy Girl," Jack replied while his grin widened teasingly at her, dimples appearing in his cheeks. With that, he disappeared down the road.

After finishing her cigarette for the day, Holly felt sleepy. By the looks of it, it was around ten o'clock at night. Holly looked around for a place to sleep, such as a bench, but no such thing was there. A sudden gust of cool wind blew through, and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself while she shivered. Holly's head turned to the alley.

There wasn't anywhere else to sleep, and Holly didn't feel completely safe sleeping on the sidewalk or anywhere by a road in general. She carried all of her things there, and tried to set up camp. Her backpack doubled as a pillow, and Holly tried to spread her jacket over her as a blanket, but that was colder than keeping it on in the first place so it stayed on.

"Goodbye, society," Holly muttered. "Hello, homelessness."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen **

_29 August, 1958_

Paul woke up at six that morning as usual. He pulled himself out of bed unwillingly, but was cheered by the thought of seeing Holly that morning, since she always came to the McCartneys' house for breakfast before they caught a ride on Mr Harrison's bus with George. Only Mike and Paul's dad were seated at the table that morning.

"Mike, where's Holly?" Paul asked as he sat down in his spot. "She's late this morning." Mike didn't look at his older brother, and Jim McCartney answered for him.

"Paul, there's something you should read on the counter," he told his oldest son. Paul instantly got up and read the little piece of notebook paper that Holly had painfully scribbled an explanation on the night before.

"I'm going to the McFarlanes'," Paul told his family, and walked across the street with the letter clenched tightly in his hand. Holly's mother answered the door, her gaze on her feet.

"What can I do for you, Paul?" she asked him.

"Mrs McFarlane, where's Holly?" Paul asked her slowly, holding up the letter.

"She's gone," Julie told him, her head still hung in shame. "She didn't say where." Paul nodded and thanked her before leaving. Back at his house, Paul got his father's reluctant permission to look for Holly and skip school. He got a ride like always.

"Mr Harrison?" Paul asked. "I'm skipping out today, could you give me a ride to Blackpool?" Something in the back of his mind told Paul that's where she was, even though it was fourteen hours there from Liverpool by foot, and two by car. He explained the situation.

"Can I go with Paul, Dad?" George begged his father.  
"I'll give you two a ride there," Mr Harrison agreed as reluctantly as Jim McCartney had, but he knew how important that girl was to the teenage boys. He rather liked her himself, in fact. The drive to Blackpool was completed in utter silence, but silence really was the best thing to be said they would all eventually agree. Mr Harrison dropped his son and his son's friend off in Blackpool and told them he would be back to get them before supper. They thanked him and they all went their separate ways.

"Where do you think we should go first?" George asked Paul as he looked around.

"Well, if I remember correctly, Holly's out of cigarettes, so she probably went and bought a pack first thing," Paul offered. "We could start there and see where it goes."

"I guess we haven't got any other leads," George agreed. They walked into a shop and interrogated the man behind the counter.

"Have you seen a girl in here wearing a leather jacket, leather pants, and carrying an army backpack and a guitar here recently?" Paul asked him.

"She's got brown hair to her shoulders and brown eyes, about this tall-" George held it hand just under his chin. "Sixteen years old, well acquainted with variations of the word 'fuck'?"

"Yes, she was last night, about ten o'clock. We got into quite a row over the cost of cigarettes until a young man broke it up and paid for hers and his both," the man answered.

"Didn't say where she was going at all?" Paul asked. The man shook his head.

The two left the shop, ultimately gaining nothing they didn't already know.

"Now what?" George said defeatedly.

"Just walk and keep an eye open, I guess," Paul suggested. "I don't have an other brilliant ideas."

George caught a sight of a brown haired girl blending in with the shadows of the alley, absentmindedly picking on a guitar. George swore that it was the saddest sound he had ever heard in his life. He nudged Paul.

"Looks an awful lot like Holl, doesn't it?" George asked his older friend.

"Holl!" Paul called. The girl looked up, and her eyes brightened from the sad look they had formerly held while they were focusing on the frets of her guitar. A smile brighter than one thousand suns spread across her face as she got up and dropped the guitar. The smile always sent volts of electricity through Paul.

"PAULIE!" she screamed as she ran at the two boys. Paul caught her in his arms and spun her once.

"I was so worried you were gone forever," Paul whispered as he set her down.

"I'm never forever gone," Holly whispered back, then she turned to George and hugged him, "Hey Georgie."

"Glad your alright," George told her with a grin.

"Thanks for coming for me," she thanked the two awkwardly, but Paul knew his best friend meant it sincerely, even if she couldn't express it properly.

"Let's go home now, yeah?" Paul told her.

"I'm not going to that bitch," Holly said coldly, a dark light coming over her eyes.

"You never will again," Paul promised. "Let's just go home now."

"Home, that sounds rather nice right now."


	14. Chapter 14

_Hey, Beatle People! This story is slowly coming to a close; I only plan a few more chapters in it. Thank you all very much for the positive reception that this story (and all of what you seem to have dubbed my 'Holly Stories') has received. I never dreamed that these would be as popular as they are. All right, enough of that shit. On with the story!_

**Chapter** **Fourteen**

_29 August, 1958; Around 9:00 PM_

"What'll your dad say?" Holly asked Paul. "Will he be mad at you? 'Cause I don't want him to be angry at you my account."

"He won't be mad!" Paul scoffed at her. "You're practically his daughter he never had, you know that!"

"Only one way to find out," Holly told her best friend as she reached for the doorknob. She was glad that her two best friends had come to Blackpool and rescued her (she could've gotten on her feet there eventually, y'know...), but now what? No way in hell that Holly was going home to her mum. That was counter productive! Anticipation filled her as she watched her own hand turn the doorknob to the McCartney house.

"Paul? Is that you?" Jim's voice asked. "Did you find her?"

"I'm right here, Jim," Holly called out to the man she considered her second father.

"Well, for God's sake, both you! Come here!" The two sixteen year olds instinctively followed his directions. They waited for him to say something parent-ish ("What were you thinking?" "Were you mad?!"), but he didn't. The eldest McCartney enveloped Holly in his arms, the type of hug a parent gives their child. The type of hug that makes you think nothing can ever hurt you and sends volts of happiness and love through your body. This was the type of hug Holly used to get from her own father.

"Thank God Paul found you!" he told her with a whisper. "We all knew what was happening in your home, and I don't blame you; we all knew that your mother finally went off the deep end when your dad died. I do consider you my daughter, and I worry about you like one."

Holly looked up at Jim and smiled, "And I consider you my dad."

Jim looked over at Paul, "Paul, is it alright with you if Holly were to share your room with you? Of course, I'll get in another bed as soon as I can, but in the short term?" The best friends shared a look and took themselves in each other's arms again.

"Sure," Paul replied, not containing his smile at all.

"All right, well, now that all of this excitement is over, I'm going to bed," Jim told his son and daughter. "And I expect you two to do the same, understand?"

"Yessir." The father shot the two children one last smile, then made his way to his bedroom.

"I'm going to sleep too, coming?" Paul asked her.

"I'll be in in a mo'," Holly told him, and watched him leave to his room. She put down all of her stuff and collapsed onto the couch. Her gaze went up to ceiling, and Holly thought about how much she could go for a cigarette right now. Footsteps were registered in her brain, and she looked up to see Mike McCartney.

"Hi," he told her casually. "I feigned sleeping. I'm glad that your back, wouldn't have anyone to bother. I mean, there's still Paul, but he doesn't really count for anything, does he?"

Holly laughed, "Thanks, Michelle. I'm glad to be back." He nodded and said nothing more (not even a protest to his nickname, which surprised Holly), but continued to stare at her. "Y'know, Michael, if you want to hug me right now, I won't tell anybody. Promise." He put his arms around his common law sister awkwardly, and she followed suit. Mike pulled away first. "What, never hugged a girl before?"

Mike stuck his tongue out at her, "Go to hell, Holly." He left to go back to his room. Holly congratulated herself on her handiwork. Pissing Michael McCartney off was great fun, and usually held in high regards by her peers. Finally at peace, Holly decided to join Paul in bed.

She looked at him asleep while standing in the doorway. He had had been so tired that he collapsed onto the bed asleep without putting on any pajamas. Holly helped herself to Paul's pajamas, then joined him in the world of dreams.


	15. Chapter 15

_30 August, 1958_

Holly woke up in a daze as Jim McCartney asked her to come out and look at what he found that morning. She followed him to the front door and instantly saw what he saw. Three cardboard boxes labelled _Holly's Things _and her dismantled bed.

"There's also a note," Jim added, and handed it to her. It read:

_Dear Jim, _

_I know you probably don't think well of me, but I wanted you to know that I'm sorry. So very sorry. It doesn't change anything at all, but I wanted to say it nevertheless. Anyways, I want to thank you for taking in Holly. She loves you and your family more than her own, and I know that you'll take care of her until the time comes for her to leave and go out on her own. _

_Anyways, the reason I left all of this here is because I left. I can't live across from you knowing that Holly is there too- seeing her everyday would be so hard for the both of us. It sounds cowardly, but it's the only thing I can do. I'll be going as far away as I can. This is most likely our last goodbye, and I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me and remember me as I was before when we were friends and Mary was alive. _

_Best wishes, Julie _

Holly handed it back to Jim. Nothing her mother had said in that stupid letter had made her forgive the woman the slightest bit. Nothing would.

"I have to go get dressed for school, but I'll help reassemble my bed when I get home," she promised him. He nodded, and she did as she had said she would. When Holly had finished dressing, she found that Paul was already waiting for her so they could go to the Harrison house to meet George and get a ride to their respective schools.

"Hey," George greeted the two. "You're late this morning, we were going to leave without you." Paul and Holly explained to George about the discovery that had been made that morning. He didn't say anything about it, and the boarded without another word. That's one of the things Holly liked best about George Harrison; unlike Paul, he didn't pry for details. He listened, he understood, and never said another word unless you brought it up first. It was nice to know that there were people around like that. Those people had become increasingly important to Holly in the last months.

She enjoyed some time chatting with her friends about music, the radio, and movies before they arrived at her school. Holly hated that she had to go to a different school than Paul and George, but things had to happen sometimes for no apparent reason. At least Lauren and Morgan were there to keep her company; not a whole lot of people actually liked Holly because they were under the impression either that she was a bitch (true) or a whore (not true), and it was best to stay away from those types. Holly found this amusing because the person who spread most of these rumors was that damn Sarah Miller, who was guilty of both offenses. Like always, her two female friends were waiting for her, since they somehow got to school before she.

Similar to George, the two didn't comment about her absense the day prior, and they went on to joking like normal, though they did more of it than Holly, who would listen and laugh. They didn't quite understand how and why she was quiet and thoughtful sometimes. Holly McFarlane was mentally thirty years old and had dual personalities; obnoxious without a care, and silent and thoughtful. She spoke if there was something to say, simple as that. Like George, they listened, they understood, and they didn't say anything. Too bad the popular girls weren't the same.

Sarah Miller and her disciples cornered her in the hall and all attacked her like a pair of buzzards are on a dead or wounded animal. Jesus, was Holly tired of being a martyr.

"McFarlane, I heard that you're living with McCartney now," Sarah's second in command, Olivia, said. "Isn't that convenient? Sarah, I bet you ten pounds that since she's living with him now that she'll be pregnant before the year's out." Holly didn't comment. She was used to them teasing her mercilessly about Paul, but that was the worst one.

"I'll definitely take that bet, Olivia," Sarah said, then looked at Holly and waited for her say something back in retaliation. When she was silent, Sarah rid the silence, "Jesus, McFarlane, you're like a stray mutt. No one wants you, and they only take you out of pity." That one stung a bit, mostly because she had thought all of these things herself.

"You can't avoid talking to us forever, you know," Olivia said.

"I'll always be there, wherever you are, relaxing with my thoughts while waiting for you," Sarah said with a smirk. Finally, Holly saw an opportunity and took it.

"Do you use your right or your left hand for that?" Sarah's face turned red, and they all left as a unit when they recognized that there wasn't a comeback. Holly sighed, glad to be rid of them, though she knew that they'd be back. And back. And back. Back in primary school, Holly had somehow landed herself on the top of Sarah's 10 Most Wanted List. It was easy to take all of it with a grain of salt, but it was harder when your self esteem was rapidly spiraling downwards.

She sighed, and went off to the next class. English. Writing always calmed her, and on the bright side, she could vent her problems and turn them into a story where the main protragonist wins against her attackers for once. That was always nice.

Nevertheless, Holly knew that she was in for a long fucking day.


	16. Chapter 16

_Ok, here is the last chapter of Yesterday. Originally, there was going to be two more chapters that were a rewrite of the first two chapters of The Time of My Life, but since I'm rewriting those on that story anyways, there's no point for me to do it here too. _

_Thank you to all of the people who read and liked this story and my others. It really means a lot to me that somehow and somewhere my writing is appreciated, so thank you. _

_Alright, on with the story! I give you the sixteenth and last installment of Yesterday!_

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Hey, Holl, you should come with me," Paul tried to persuade Holly. He had been rambling about going to this function to see a certain band play, called "The Quarrymen" or something like that.

"Do I really worry you that much?" she asked as she looked up from her book.

"Well, yes, sort of," Paul admitted. "But that's not why I'm asking you to come! I just thought you'd enjoy hearing some good skiffle."

"-and getting back into society again. I know what you're thinking, McCartney," Holly read his mind. "Don't you underestimate my powers."

"Well? Will you?"

"Is Harrison coming?" Holly asked out curiosity before giving her friend a straight answer. That was one the things he found most annoying about her. Eventually, most of those annoying things became endearing, but they still annoy you when they pop up.

"No, just you and me this time," he replied in a peeved tone. "Can I count on you coming or not?!"

After a moment's consideration, she nodded, "Yeah, I suppose. I can just walk home if I don't want to be there-" Holly paused as Michael McCartney entered, and said quickly, "-and I could just hang out with Mikey all night!"

Mike gagged, "Take her with you! Take her with you!" Paul laughed at his brother's pleas.

"Oh, I will, don't worry."

Holly stood in the crowd with Paul, holding his hand so she wouldn't get lost (she would, eventually). Finally, the band they called the Quarrymen took the stage, a very ragtag group of musicians. The only one who looked as if he knew what he was doing was the one standing behind the microphone, Holly assumed that he was their frontman. On another glance, though, Holly noticed that his guitar only had four strings instead of six. She also noticed that as he formed the first chord he was going to play, it wasn't any guitar chord that she had learned to play. In fact, it was a banjo chord.

"Oh, dear," she said to Paul quietly. "We're in for a treat." They began to play "Come Go With Me" by the Del-Vikings, and Holly read his face. He didn't know the lyrics to the song, but he was doing a pretty good job of making up his own.

_Come_ _go with me... down to the penitentiary..._

The pair of friends laughed.

"I think I like his lyrics better than the real ones," Holly said to Paul, who was turned around and whispering with another boy. Paul turned around again to clarify.

"A friend just invited me to go meet the band, maybe try out to get in," he told her in a whisper. "Do you want to come with me?"

Holly shook her head, "Nah, I'm kind of tired. Might torture Michael; you never know what the future might hold, you know."

"If you insist."

True to her word, Holly headed home after the Quarrymens' set was done. Paul found that she had resumed her spot on the couch, her nose buried in her book. He rolled his eyes; he had run all the way home to find that she was lost in a book.

"Holly!" he exclaimed. "Guess what!"

She looked up at him irritably, "McCartney, this better be important. That was a good part in the book!" Paul couldn't do anything to stop the wide grin that was spreading across his face.

"I got into the Quarrymen!"


End file.
